


Charming little things

by Yuki1014o



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Alastor is in Hell for a Reason (Hazbin Hotel), Cannibalism, F/M, Gen or Pre-Slash, RadioWool, and half me trying to figure out what the HELL is up with Alastor's morals, this is half pre slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:34:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27183886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yuki1014o/pseuds/Yuki1014o
Summary: “You asked after me?” Alastor asks, smiling politely. “Is there something you want? Something you need? A wish you can’t help but chase after?”“Oh,” the demon says, not quite meeting his eyes. She shifts a bit. The basket clutched tightly in her grip jostles. Something clinks inside. “It’s um, nothing like that. I just want to thank you.”///Alastor wants a deal. Wooly just wants to say a proper thank you. It works out, kind of.
Relationships: Alastor/that sheep demon
Comments: 21
Kudos: 115





	Charming little things

**Author's Note:**

> I've named her Wooly! Because my ability for naming things is exactly none.  
> That also explains the terrible title.
> 
> Blanket warning for Alastor. there's nothing too terrible, I don't think, but might as well give some kinda warning haha.

“Hey, uh, Alastor?” Charlie says, voice sounding a bit uncertain, and Alastor peeks open his eyes.

He’d been relaxing in the library, been listening to his own head and playing through his favorite songs, but ah, well. Seems like that’s over! No jazz can compare to the swing of reality!

“Hm?” He asks, and lets his smile show some teeth. “Something the matter, dear?”

Charlie shifts a bit, twists her claws around the hem of her shirt. She still hasn’t grown entirely used to him. Will sweetening his demeanor put her more on ease or less? Does it matter?

“There’s someone in door,” Charlie says, “she asked if you were here.”

Alastor feels genuinely delighted at that. “Haha!” He says, swinging himself up and rocking back on his heels. “Sounds delightful! Well I can’t leave my guest waiting, can I?”

He pets (rakes his claws through) Charlie’s hair on his way past. She shudders. How lovely. If only Lucifer was this easy to mess with. Alastor pauses moment, tilts his head back at her. “Coming?”

“Oh yeah,” Charlie says. “Sure. In a minute.”

Alastor grins and continues on. The tap of his shoes against the hellstone sounds like music. He pauses by the door, swings it open. The demon outside startles, looks at him wide eyed. She’s a cute little thing—dressed modestly, carrying a head of soft-looking wool, and with side-turned pupils that mark her unmistakably _prey_.

She also looks vaguely familiar. Has he tried to eat her before? No, that doesn't make sense. She’s still alive and Alastor does not play to lose. Besides, she’s a meek looking demon. There would be no satisfaction in that kind of hunt.

“You asked after me?” He asks, smiling politely. “Is there something you want? Something you _need?_ A wish you can’t help but chase after?”

“Oh,” the demon says, not quite meeting his eyes. She shifts a bit. The basket clutched tightly in her grip jostles. Something clinks inside. “It’s um, nothing like that. I just want to thank you.”

Alastor stills.

He wasn’t really expecting that. It isn’t all that often someone comes to him to say _thank you_. He lets no surprise show in his face though, instead he just laughs.

“Thank me!” He says, cocking his head. “Whatever could you be thanking _me_ for?”

the demon kind of—wilts. He face falls, her shoulders drop, she glances off to the side. “You don’t remember? Oh—never mind, of course you don’t.” She smiles at him, and it’s a bit weak, a bit unpracticed, but it almost seems genuine. What a nice display. “I’m Wooly. You saved me a few weeks ago in the Cannibal Colony. Um, with the butcher! He—”

_Oh!_

Alastor remembers now. That butcher tasted mediocre. A true waste of space. Alastor holds back the urge to curl his lips. The whole incident was distasteful.

“Oh don’t thank me for _that_ ,” Alastor says, rather cheerful, though he’s still planning on accepting whatever Wooly plans to give him. “I only did what was natural!”

Because _really_. There’s no pleasure to be found in preying on the weak and unwilling. There’s no challenge in that, no prestige, no pride. When the other has neither provoked the interaction nor has the means or will to fight it—that isn’t something Alastor will ever lower himself to engage with.

No hunter displays the head of a doe or fawn. Similarly, Alastor will not kill children or those who live fairer.

They exist in different worlds. To break that line—it’s distasteful. And Alastor is a gentleman.

There’s a certain kind of high in biting those who bite first. In tearing down ambition, in seeing someone try and try and _try_ but falling to their own stupidity, in falling to their own faults. He _yearns_ for the moment that Charlie’s castle of cards falls at its foundations. And he’ll barely have to lift a finger!

“Not many would have helped,” Wooly says, firming up her shoulders, “but you _did_. I want to thank you. I made you something.”

Alastor grins up to his eyes. “Oh? What could you _possibly_ give me?”

Wooly kind of shrinks. Alastor almost clicks his tongue. A performance like that is laughable. “Ah well. I heard you liked food so. I did my best.” She sticks the basket at him.

Oh how _lovely_. Isn’t that just _adorable?_ She made him food like some kind of love struck teenager. How could Alastor resist an offer like that?

He takes the basket. Peers beneath the cloth. Everything is wrapped up and packaged nicely. And beneath that— _oh_. Hmm.

“Boudin balls?” He asks, faintly surprised, a bit delighted, and also a tad concerned. Alastor is a private person. He does not want his topside history to be public. “And _j_ _a_ _mbalaya?_ Why’d you choose those?”

“Oh!” Wooly says, jumping a little. She looks worried. “I’m sorry, do you—not like those? Louisiana was my state before I moved up north to New York. I’m used too cooking that kind of thing for a taste of home. I can make you something else? If you like?”

Alastor laughs. “Never! Louisiana cooking is my favorite, in fact!”

“Oh good,” Wooly says, smiling hesitantly. “Ah—I substituted the normal meats for venison, though. Since you got it at the butcher’s. And um, also put some of my own flesh into it? To make it more personal. I don’t know if you like lamb but—”

Oh. It just keeps getting better! Alastor just wants to dig his teeth into her pretty little neck. Could he get her to sign a contract of servitude? There would be no shame, then.

“I can’t wait to try,” Alastor says, honestly.

A hint of pink spreads across her cheeks. Oh. Hmm. So it’s like that. How _convenient_.

He plucks a boudin ball. It looks right, feels right, but he can’t truly know till he tastes it! Alastor bites down.

It’s perfect.

It’s _perfect._

Where was this sheep hiding the whole time? How has he not gotten her under contract yet? Alastor prides himself on having the best network concerning food.

The jambalaya is much the same. It’s not as good as his mother’s, but _no_ food is as good as hers. This cooking—

“Is it alright?” Wooly bites at her lip. Her teeth are sharp. Alastor wonders what got her into Hell. “I know it probably not that good—”

“Nonsense my dear!” Alastor says, and he genuinely means it. “Why, I don’t think there’s a chef in hell to rival your Louisiana cuisine!”

Wooly blushes right up into her ears. Alastor’s eyes narrow. He runs a tongue over his teeth. He wants to ruin her, wants to drag her further down than she already is. What would it take, he wonders, to make her into a creature that bites?

“You flatter,” she says.

“Not at all!” Alastor smiles, and steps forward. “Say, what’d a poor lamb like you do to fall down here?”

“Oh,” she says, sounding a bit embarrassed. “Nothing much. Got tangled up in financial fraud. Helped run some shady loan place. And a pyramid scheme. That’s where my accent went. Hard to sell when no one can understand you.”

Alastor hums. “No cannibalism?”

Wooly laughs, waves her hand a bit. “No. Not in life. ‘Manifested in the Colony, though. So I went and did what everyone else was.”

A true sheep. Following the herd. Alastor holds back from tutting, or maybe just laughing in delight. It may be easier to get her under contract than he assumed! “I suppose you joined the scheme because you were asked and helped run the loans on request?”

“Yeah,” Wooly says. “And then I just couldn’t get out.”

“Say,” Alastor purrs, and makes sure his face is smooth, his smile less dangerous than usual, “you want a fair contract? Want a deal that won’t have you ruining yourself? Something simple, something _enjoyable?_ ”

“I’m not sure what you’re getting at,” Wooly says. Her knuckles are white.

Alastor steps forward. Another few inches and he’s be standing on her feet. “It would guarantee your safety. Under me you’d never _ever_ be put in a position like the butcher’s again.”

“But there’s a cost,” Wooly says.

“A small one,” Alastor agrees, “cooking on demand, that’s all! Simply a promise to come whenever called. Your cooking has quite charmed me, you see!”

“There’s always a web of invisible strings,” Wooly says, stepping back. “I worked schemes and law. It’s _always_ like that.”

“Have I led you wrong yet?” Alastor asks, smiling like he’s a friend. “I did help you back then, did I not? I don’t mean to hurt you, _cher_.”

Her eyes go wide. “You’re—”

“New Orleans boy,” Alastor says, “I’d treat you well.”

A lie, of course. Because Alastor doesn’t feed on those with less means, fairer minds, doesn't harm those who live in what might as well be another world from him. He won’t chase a fleeing victim. But—

It’s an entirely different matter with contracts and deals. Everyone has a head, everyone can think. Everyone has the ability to just _not_ _sign_. On that front Alastor and the other will be on a flat plain, will have the same tools. All they have to do is say _no_.

If they sign, if they say yes—then, really, they’ve stepped into his world on their own. They’ve bared their own neck for slaughter. Whatever happens from there is just a product of their own stupidity.

“I’m sure you would,” Wooly says, and Alastor nods and smiles and already feels satisfaction crawling up his spine. “But I have to say no.”

Ah. Hmm.

“And why would that be, my dear?” He asks, pleasant lilt to his static-filled voice. “You don’t believe me?”

“Contracts and deals ruined me once,” Wooly says, voice firm, “I’d love to cook more for you but I can’t accept a deal.”

She sounds made-up. She sounds _settled_ in this.

How disappointing.

How utterly saddening.

How terribly _delightful_. She isn’t stupid. The disappointment fades into a mellow aftertaste, replaced by something akin to respect. Shame he couldn’t get another pawn (at least, not this time) but isn’t it more _interesting_ this way? And besides, Alastor has her cooking either way.

“Haha!” he laughs, “Ah well! Tell you what, I’ll put a word in for you to Rosie. She owns a few _lovely_ establishments in the Colony. You wouldn’t be opposed to a job at one of them, would you? No deals or contracts required!”

“Really?” Wooly asks, sounding disbelieving and a bit star struck. Alastor nods, smiles with no teeth, and tucks his hand away. Backs up a step. “You’d do that for me?”

“I mentioned already, didn’t I?” Alastor says. “You’ve quite charmed me!”

“Ah,” Wooly says, and the pink dusting is back. “Okay. I’d like that.”

“My pleasure,” Alastor says, takes her hand, kisses his lips against it, and is careful not to bite.

**Author's Note:**

> this was supposed to be about half the length. RadioWool brainrot. I’m not a huge shippe but I simply couldn’t resist. Some of the fanart artists have made such gorgeous pieces!
> 
> You can probably see how much I was trying to figure out Alastor’s ethics. Bringing chaos and violence the likes of which Hell has never seen before, being a serial killer, yet not harming children, not chasing fleeing victims, and saving sheep girl? He’s confusing! But also very interesting!
> 
> Anyhow! I enjoy feedback, so please don’t hesitate to leave a comment if you liked it! And, as usual, constructive criticism is welcome! <3


End file.
